


Why?

by Kulkum



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Intense, Oral Sex, Romance, Sexual Content, Shepard Survives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kulkum/pseuds/Kulkum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian. To those around them, an inevitability. But when two people who have trusted each other so unconditionally are afraid to take things beyond friendship, sometimes the only question left to ask is why? This story is a "What if" that details how their romance might have gone if they did nothing until the end of the Reaper War. </p><p>Unrepentant fluff and romantic erotica. Had planned 2 chapters, but it ran away on its own so more are coming.</p><p>Please note: This is Shepard after the Reaper Wars. She has been through a hell no one can imagine, was physically crushed, emotionally scarred and lives with the guilt that trillions died and she could do nothing to stop it. She doesn't want to be strong anymore. She doesn't want to be Shepard anymore.</p><p>I have marked this work as Complete for the time being. I am working on my other Shepard/Garrus story, and while I am still working on the next chapter of Why, progress is slow and I am not sure when it will be finished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why?

**Author's Note:**

> I see a lot of sad fanfics about the end of ME3. I see a lot of fanfics about happier endings where Garrus was always the romance option. Haven't seen one yet like this one. Because I seem to love depriving the two of them until it is almost too late, here is a story about what would happen if Shepard and Garrus had never allowed themselves to be more than friends in until after the end of the Reaper War, no matter how much they really wanted to.
> 
> Also… It never did sit well with me that Garrus, the most loyal of Shepard's companions even outside of romance, would allow himself to be led away while Shepard pushed forward into an impossible battle without him. In fact, as touching as that scene was in the game… That bugged the SHIT out of me. I will do my best to correct that.  
> This will be split POV between Garrus and Shepard.
> 
> This Shepard is actually largely renegade by this time in her life, with a really big soft spot for mandibles and natural armor plating.
> 
> I don't have a proof reader, btw. I made a few minor corrections that I spotted myself. If anyone wants to volunteer, I could use the assist. :)
> 
> Please review. Reviews are like crack to authors, and they are so rare lately.

Why?

Almost there. Another fifty yards of fighting through the maw of hell to reach the actual gates to the pit, and they could end this. Reapers had been flooding the streets in numbers that she had hopes never to face, cutting down Alliance forces every bloody step of the way. A Reaper Dreadnaught loomed behind the gate in what she hoped was a desperate attempt to prevent them from reaching their only weakness. Yet still they kept moving forward. The acrid smell of charred flesh mixed readily with the metallic burn of vaporized alloy as another tank was blasted into the air by the beam from the crimson eye of the Reaper. And eye that she was sure was staring directly at her, taunting her with how insignificant she was by comparison but proving itself wrong just by turning its attention to her.

 _That's right. We're coming for you, you son of a bitch. All of you._ The thought blazed in her mind, even as the tank was torn from gravity's hold long enough to flip through the air towards her, forcing Shepard to hit the ground running in a slide that allowed it to pass over her. By inches. She had felt the sting of heat from the Mako's over-taxes main cannon pass over her face before it cleared her, slamming into the ground behind her and continuing its final roll. She sucked air into lungs that burned, pushing against ribs that ached and strained against torn muscles as she took that moment to look behind, to check on her squad.

And she saw them, not far behind now. Garrus and Tali ran full tilt towards her, tanks flanking them on either side ensuring that they were able to dash across the ruined streets of London unmolested by the mutated horrors the Reapers had created in their quest to destroy all life.

Garrus. The Turian had always been her rock to lean on, the arm she could depend on, the shoulder she could rest her head on when she grew too weary of the endless fighting. He was the _only_ one who had never doubted her, or pushed her aside. He was the _only_ one who had come with her without hesitation or personal agendas every time she needed him. And she needed him. There was no doubted that she needed him. Every mission, on every planet, against every foe, he was there to cover her flanks, keeping her focused, relaxing her with dry humor and sarcasm that made her want to hug him and punch him depending on her mood. Even now, those predatory blues were on her without panic, his only goal to close the distance so they could go the rest of the way together.

The rumble of the Reaper's call caused the ground to tremble, and the sudden push of a shock-wave against her back gave a fraction of a second to see the Mako launched into, and towards her squad.

 _No,_ came the quick, instant thought a moment before the tank landed in front of them, followed by a swell of relief when the Quarian and Turian both managed to roll to the side as it tipped over and crashed to the ground between them. And then, liquid fire. The eruption of plasma that followed the destruction of a fractured Eezo core flowed over them in waves, obscured her vision as it swallowed the two hungrily, passionately destroying her line of sight from the only person in the galaxy that kept her sane.

 _No, no, no, no, no, no…_ Frantic, she almost stumbled in relief when the flames died and she saw movement. Later, because she didn't even spare Tali more than a glance, she might feel some self-reproach. Now, she vaulted over the remains of the Mako and dropped down beside the Turian. The ache in her chest easing only slightly when he raised those predatory blues to look up at her; dazed but alive. Blue armor melted, blackened and sizzling along with a good portion of his hide. But _alive._ The burn of the hot alloy melting into her own gloves didn't even register as she grabbed him, half dragging him into cover while checking frantically for anything that might be a fatal wound.

_I can't do this without you._

_There is no Shepard without Vakarian._

_I need you._

_Why did I never tell you?_

 She couldn't bring herself to face the reply as she called the Normandy for extraction.

* * *

 

"Shepard?" He could hardly find the strength to stand on his own, but his determination not to leave Shepard alone stopped Tali from taking him further into the Normandy when he realized that she was not following them.

"You've got to get out of here," she called, half speaking to Tali in an attempt to get her to move forward.

"And you've got to be kidding me," he ground out. The fact that he was having a hard time thinking at all did not stop him from pulling against Tali, trying to make his way back to her. Getting back to where he belonged in this fucked up galaxy.

"Don't argue, Garrus." Her face was firm and set, and her words held the same conviction that normally stopped all arguments.

"We're in this to the end!" He found strength in those words, and in the fact that they caused her to pause. Despite his weakness and the pain wracking his body he pulled against the arms that tried to take him from her. He only stopped struggling when she walked up the ramp with… Something in her eyes, beyond the sadness and determination. Something that he had never seen before and it caused a clench in his gut when she reached up to placed one armored hand on his cheek. Tilting into the type of touch that they had never shared, he struggled for the words to express what he wanted her to know. Had always wanted her to know. "Shepard…"

But then, she was gone, turning from him and making her way down the ramp and back into the battle without him. Another set of arms came around him, drawing him further into the ship as the human specter turned and waved urgently. "Go!" before she turned from him as he felt the ship start to move.

"Shepard! No!" It was only the two sets of arms around him now that prevented him from breaking free and running off of the Normandy after her. " _No!"_ More arms came around him as the doors close and sealed him inside. The blackest pit of fear he had ever known in a life filled with black pits opened before him, and gave his limbs the strength to move against the ones who were allowing her to leave him. He snarled at them, cursed and thrashed against their hold on him. When he lashed out, catching some hapless marine across the fact with a blow that sent him crashing to the ground, the grief stricken Turian tore himself free from Tali and ran to the hatch controls.

She needed him. He would fight his way back to her side, and he would be with her when she finished this. And when it was finished, and she had once again saved the galaxy, he would tell her what he had not allowed himself to tell her for years.

But he was, after all, only mortal. The pain that he had ignored until then, the loss of blood, the physical abuse that he had suffered over weeks of constant battle chose that moment to remind him of that mortality as the world tilted, and darkness blurred around him. He heard the shuffle of feet rushing up to meet him before he hit the hard metal floor. He didn't feel the pain of the impact. He didn't feel the hands that lifted him, and gently placed him onto the stretcher. All he felt was the agony of knowing that he might never have the chance to tell her. He might never get to understand what he had seen so clearly in her eyes before she had turned, and gone to do what only she could do.

And as the darkness closed around him, Garrus knew that he would wake to a world where the only thing left for him to feel was regret.

Why hadn't been able to tell her?

* * *

 

_Garrus,_

_They found her._

_SB_

* * *

 

Later, with what little she could remember, she would think of it as swimming through soupy darkness to find a light. No, not a light. It was more like… A vibration. A gentle hum of what might have been sound that she couldn't really hear, but certainly felt deep down in the dark. Not knowing what it was should have been terrifying, but she just knew that she desperately wanted to reach it. But every time she thought she was getting closer, her strength would fail and she would slip deeper into the black where there was nothing but silence. Formless silence.

But it always came back for her. Called to her gently, urgently, passionately without the sharp edge of command, but with the softer touch of hope and need. Every day she came closer, until the vibration became a sound. A muffled incantation that she couldn't understand, but knew she longed for deep down in the only place she knew was still whole. It was never clear, even when she started to recognize it as a voice. _His_ voice. The beautiful low rumble, with the double-edged tone that made her feel the need to fight back tears, even though she wasn't entirely sure she had a body that would allow her to weep. She struggled closer, needing to hear it even if it was an illusion.

" _Shepard, I don't know if you can hear me…"_

Pain. She felt pain around the edges of consciousness, the pain of the physical so intense that she pulled away from it for a time. Only when she felt an ache as intense as the pain, born of the need to hear his voice again did she move closer. It may have been minutes, it may have been days. But the pain remained, though not as overpowering as before. But she suffered it as a distance without embracing it when she realized she could make out words.

" _You shouldn't have left me behind…"_

What could she do? Drag the one person who made her fight bearable to his death? She inched closer, but backed away again when the pain caused her to scream silently.

" _I know why you did, but… You should know by now what happens when we're apart…"_

She knew.

Alchera, Omega, The Alpha Relay, Earth.

Every time they were apart, things eventually went wrong. Horribly wrong. Reason might have demanded the understanding that these things would have happened with or without each other, but it had become so common place that listening to reason seemed unreasonable.

" _You said that there is no Shepard without Vakarian. Well it works both ways; there is no Vakarian without Shepard."_

She felt an ache of longing in her chest, and with it came a flare of the pain she had been shying away from. This time, she didn't back away.

" _I need you."_

Was it his voice reminding her of her own words, or was her mind reminding her of what she had known for months, but never found the courage to tell him? She didn't know. But she pushed forward again. Pushed towards his voice, back to where she needed to be. Into what felt like a wall of blinding light and burning agony that caused her silent screams to take on a life all their own. But she refused to retreat again, refused the cool and the dark. Because she would suffer anything, bear any pain if she found him at her side again. Then the voice went silent.

_No… Talk to me, Garrus._

_I need you, too._

* * *

 

When she opened her eyes, Garrus had not spoken to her for hours. Doctors had come and gone, respectfully allowing him to remain after he had made it clear that he was not leaving. As with all hospital rooms, this one smelled heavily of disinfectant and sterilized air, an effect that was only compounded by the fact that the walls were stark white and metallic. He was used to the atmosphere by now, as he had not left it since she had been cleared for visitors. Before that, he had been stationed outside of the door like a sentinel. The war was over, the Reapers had been destroyed along with every other A.I. in the galaxy, but he had not trusted the insurance of her safety to anyone other than himself.

_Beep… Beep… Beep…._

The only thing that altered the bland nature of the room was the flowers and gifts from friends and shipmates. They came daily, along with cards, and books, and letters of thanks. Even the Council, the remaining leaders of each military, and diplomats came to see her, and where turned away by the stoic Turian. They all left gifts, but aside from the crew, her friends, and her family, he had thrown them all away. He knew that she would not want their platitudes and hollow thanks now that it was over. She would have agreed with him, he he was certain.

_What makes you think you have the right, after ignoring her for so many years?_

The steady, never changing beep of the machine that monitored her vital signs was the only sound in the room aside from their breathing. She was no longer on a ventilator, yet she showed no signs of life. Her body had healed, slowly but certainly thanks to the Cerberus implants and an unlimited budget intended to ensure her survival. When he had been told that she might never wake up, and Garrus had been hard pressed to control the flash of rage at the very idea of it. That she who had won an un-winnable war, who had brought the races together by the undeniable force of her leadership, and who had stopped a cycle that had lasted for _millions_ of years would not have the strength to come back to the galaxy she had saved? It was… Unthinkable.

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

So he sat silently beside her bed now, though he was not always silent. He talked to her almost constantly, giving her updates on the state of the worlds she had saved. The rebuilding of the Mass Relays, the plans to move the Citadel back to the Widow Nebula. Plans for using the tech that had almost been the downfall of all civilization, because no one knew how to live without it. He also updated her on the crew, their friends, the Normandy, the hunt for the last vestiges of Cerberus, the fact that the politics of space had begun all over again when the Quarians demanded a seat on the Council and the Council stating that now was not the time for that kind of change. No one agreed with them. Not the Alliance, or the Krogan, or to his surprise even the Turian Hierarchy. So the Council would give in, he told her, or they would become obsolete.

Beep..Beep..Beep..

But today, he had been silent. His hope was battered, but not broken. He simply needed a day to stare at her, and remember her. He needed a day to remember her voice without the sound of his own drowning it out; to see her lightening quick grin and the sparkle of amusement in her eyes when it came. A day to remember their last moments together, the touch of her hand, and the look of… Something in her eyes before war had separated them. Something.

Beep.Beep.Beep.

If someone had not reminded him to eat every day and brought him food, he would not have eaten. If sheer exhaustion had not occasionally claimed him, forcing his eyes to close, he would not have slept. Every day, one of her crew would offer to take him home, let him get some real rest and he always refused in a tone that brokered no argument. Every so often, someone would try to convince him that she would not want him to let himself waste away like this.

Waste. How _dare_ they. If for nothing other than the fact that she had saved them all _,_ his sitting beside her and waiting for her to wake up should never be considered a waste. Every race, every person should have been sitting beside her bed, praying to whatever god or spirits or angels they worshiped. He believed that they should have, but he was glad that they didn't. This was his place. Not because she had saved him, or anyone else. He stayed because there was no Shepard without Vakarian, and if he left her… What chance did she have?

BeepBeepBeep

Predatory blue eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to find what had changed in the rhythm of the room. Coming out of his memories, silence reigned as his chest tightened. The hope that had been steadfast in him while all others had failed flared brighter now as he drew himself to his feet quickly and stood over the bed where she had slept unmoving for months. The readout on his visor confirmed the increase in her pulse rate, the quickening of her breath.

"Shepard?"

He spoke so softly into the silent room that he was not sure if he even heard his own voice. That may have been because of the rushing of blood through his head, but it hardly mattered. A flutter. The statue that was her face twitched once, before her lips parted in a tiny sigh that was the most amazing thing he had heard in his entire lift. Then her brows moved. And her mouth again, followed by a weak slide of her tongue over her dry bottom lip. And, _Spirits yes_ , her eyes struggled to open for a moment before dazed green shone into his life again. He wanted to collapse when she turned her head slowly to look around, and almost did as the strength left his legs when her gaze found him. Her smile was wane, but it was her smile. Her eyes were tired, but they held that familiar sparkled as they locked on his. When she spoke, her voice was raspy with disuse and weak, but it was _her_ voice.

"There you are..."


	2. I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one ran away from me. I was planning two chapters, with this one being romantic erotica, but then my fingers started to move and wouldn't stop. So fuck it. I will write until I am out of things to write.
> 
> Yes, the Shepard in my stories is always named Jane. I find no need to change that, even though her appearance differs.
> 
> For reference, this Jane turned Renegade-ish after the events at the Collector Base. The Illusive Man showed his true colors, the Alliance confined her for doing what she needed to do at the Alpha Relay, and the Council are always dicks who never do enough to help. By the time the Reapers came, she was just… Fed up with a galaxy that didn’t seem to want to save itself, and relied on her to do it for them.
> 
> I don’t consider this to be smut, even though the sex will be detailed, raunchy, and down-right sticky at times. But if you’re in love, and it’s not sticky and a little raunchy at times… Then you’re doing something wrong.
> 
> You’ll see what I mean in a chapter or two.

She had requested some place sunny but cool to recover, and they had sent her someplace sunny but cool. Cool temperatures, clear skies, beautiful landscape, and untouched by the Reapers. It almost didn’t seem possible that such a place existed, but the truth of the matter was that there were a lot of places untouched by the war. Every major city on Earth was ruble, most of the small ones, and many small towns and rural areas had been struck from orbit before the main Crucible fleet had arrived, not even worth a landing by the main Reaper forced. Billions were dead; trillions on a galactic scale.

But places like this existed because they had won. They had survived. And they would recover, rebuild, thrive. Their children’s children for a hundred thousand generations to come would advance and explore beyond the relays. They would hopefully learn from the mistakes of the past, pave their own future in the stars. For the first time since learning of the Reapers, Jane Shepard knew that there was an undeniable hope for that future.

But she wasn’t thinking about that. She was thinking about the Turian who was walking beside her. She felt the warm of his hand at the small of her back, and the other gently holding her arm to support her as they walked into the house. She felt the strength of his alien body pressed close against her side, and wished that she could stop wondering if he wanted to be so close to her, or if he did it because he felt he needed to. Had he stayed beside her for all of those months out of some sense of duty? Because she had “saved all life in the galaxy?”

 

_"You know, Shepard," Liara had told her when Garrus had fallen asleep on the cot in her hospital room. "He refused to leave your side. He refused to give up hope. I’ve never seen that kind of devotion,"_

 

But was it devotion to _her,_ or was it devotion to Commander Shepard? Did he see as some untouchable icon? She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know the answer to that. She wasn’t sure she could stand knowing that her best friend, the one who had given her the strength to keep fighting when everything inside of her just wanted to give in to despair, only saw her as some great figure that the galaxy would look up to now. He hadn’t before, but now that the Reapers were actually gone, that could have shifted. She would rather have him as her friend, and never let him know how much she loved him, than have him worship her like some demigoddess.

“Shepard?”

And he called her Shepard, as he always had. But the name Shepard would mean something else to the rest of the galaxy now, as much as she hated the fact. She prayed, _prayed_ it didn’t mean the same to him.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice weak as they stepped into the house. It was nothing special, really. A simple, two bedroom, two bath with a kitchen that had been stocked with levo and dextro food. It was not a prefab unit, though. It was a good, solid, comfortable looking house built by the hands of craftsman. She glanced around at the dark woods, the plush tan carpet, the comfortable old style furniture, the stone fire place that burned actual wood. She breathed in the earthy scents of fresh air not tainted by the acrid stink of burning bodies or the ozone of weapons fire. She wanted this.

Almost as much as she wanted Garrus not to see her as Commander Shepard.

“Shepard, are you alright?”

She brought it out for him, to ease that concern in his flanging voice. No matter her needs, her feelings, she wanted him to know that she was always his friend. So she brought her smile to the surface and turned it up for him. Of course she was fine. The war was over and they had won.

What could be wrong?

She had no idea that one so who had once been so alien could read her eyes just as clearly as she could read his, and knew that her smile never reached them.

* * *

 

His mandibles pressed tight to his jaw as she turned that smile up to him. There was no amused pleasure in it. No teasing light in her eyes, or happiness that was almost always present in her smiles to him. She had always been a terrible liar, mostly because her eyes were so damned expressive that anything dishonest on her face was not reflected in the green of her eyes. At least, that is what he saw. Others seemed easily baffled by that quick grin, so sometimes he was left wondering why he could see through her with such ease.

Her pain and her sorrow was something he was prepared to face. The war had taken its toll on the galaxy, but no one had seen so much as Shepard. She had been on Earth, seen the burning continents of Palavin, been there at Thessia’s fall, watched as colony after colony was crushed without being able to do anything to stop it. It never crossed his mind that, because she had struggled to continue on through all of these horrible events, he had been at her side. He wasn’t concerned with himself, and because he wasn’t, he accepted her soft lie when she told him that she was fine.

“Come on, Shepard,” he said, drawing her close to his side as he led her towards the master bedroom. “You need some food, and some rest.”

She didn’t protest, and placidly leaned against him for the few steps that it took them to reach the room. He tried to ignore the softness of her body, and the way she wrapped her arm around her waist in an embrace that was so intimate to Turians. He knew that she didn’t know what it did to him when she pressed her fingertips into the softer hide between his plates. Even through the fabric of the dark blue civvies he wore, it sent a heat spreading through him and he could not stop the silent sub-vocal rumble that started in his chest.

Once in the dimly lit bedroom, he took a step away from her. For moment, he even imagined that she was reluctant to let her hand slide away from him as he turned her to face him. Every move he made was gentle, and yes… Reverent. She was _alive._ It was the only thing that mattered now, and he was going to take care of her. All thoughts of telling her how he felt, of making sure she understood how he needed her were pushed aside for later. She had been needed enough by so many, he did not want to add to her burden. Right now, she needed someone to take care of her, and he would not let anyone else fill the roll.

“I need to…” His words faltered for a moment, and his mandibles twitches in an uncontrollable moment of uncertain embarrassment. A foolish reaction, even as she turned those strange, beautiful blue eyes up to him with a question in that little head tip. Comrades in arms, best friends. That is what they were now, and he would remember that until he was ready to tell her more. For now, he relaxed and parted his mouth in a Turian smile. “Let me help you get ready for bed, then I’ll make you something to eat.”

She didn’t move, though the quick little ghost of an amused smile that came to her lips did touch her eyes this time. It relaxed him further, calmed the first nervous reaction into nothingness. He had found human clothing to be much easier to address than Turian. While Turians wore things that fastened from the side to avoid catching and tearing on the plates or spurs, human civilian clothing was usually taken off by simply pulling them on and off. So when he reached down to tug the plane white top she wore upwards, he was not surprised when she started to raise her arms. He adjusted to this, and with care slipped his bare hands into the shirt, and under her arms to help her lift them. As he lifted the shirt further, he was not even fully aware of the fact that the male part of him indulged in the guilty pleasure of sliding the pads of his fingers and the palms of his hands over her skin as he did so.

Wasn’t aware of, until a quick shiver raced through the woman in front of him and the sensitive pads of his palm felt the tiny bumps form all over her skin. Garrus knew what they were. When a human was cold, they got… Moose bumps, or something like that. “You won’t be cold for long,” he promised, as he pulled it fully off and set it on the chair beside the bed. “I’ll start a fire once…”

Thought was a funny thing sometimes. It was less common than people believed for all intelligent thought to simply… Shut down in a sentient mind. There might have been a pause, or a sudden change of direction in a mind that threw a person off balance, but thought didn’t simply stop. But it did happen, in some special moments that could not be explained or expressed with a coherent picture, word, or even feeling. Garrus’ mind had shut off like a switch at the sight of her naked skin. So much skin, all of it pink and… No. Not pink, which was the general assumption of most Turians. It was more like milk, with just enough coffee added to make a cream color. Broken in places by scars that were actually pink, most of them gained when he was fighting beside her. But there were new ones. Mismatched patches of pure white and soft pink. They could have been much worse, but the Cerberus implants had done wonders, as had the medical teams that had cared for her after her fall.

His first real thought once his brain started to work again had him wondering if the breasts still hidden behind a simple white bra would look (and feel) as soft as the rest of her. So soft and so vulnerable that his talons twitched at his side as he fought back the desire to touch her. He had never seen this much of her, and it made his plates ache as his gaze moved from her breasts to the smoothly toned plain of her stomach, the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. His brow plates lowered, and he found himself enjoying the way her skin flushed a light shade of red (again, not pink) as his gaze moved up…

“Garrus?”

Blushing. That is what caused the flush of her skin, and he had been around humans long enough to know what it meant. His eyes snapped up to hers as he suddenly realized that he had been staring at her, that his chest was rumbling with the silent vibrations of arousal, and that she was watching him watch her. “Shepard, I’m sorry. I…” he stammered quickly, ready to turn his back to allow her to finish undressing herself so he could stop acting like a love struck youth. Love struck, yes. But not a youth. Not for a long time now.

But when he raised his eyes to meet hers, it was not reproach or anger that he found in them. Not even embarrassment, or an uncomfortable self-consciousness. Her eyes were locked on his now, with that same “something” in them that had haunted him from the moment he had been left behind. Was it… Longing that he saw as she stared at him? Hunger? Maybe even hope?

He swallowed thickly, his mouth closing as he stopped all apology and stepped closer to her again. Mandibles drawn close to his jaw to control what he knew would be a quick flutter in his anxious state, he forced himself to relax and act like the Turian who knew she trusted him more than anyone else. “You can’t blame me for looking,” he said, his tone kept light and playful now. “I’ve never seen this much of you before.”

He didn’t see her reaction to his words as he stepped past her easily and stopped behind her. She remained still as he examined the bra for a moment in silence. He had heard human males talk about the mystery of unhooking bras before, and he wondered if those males had been damaged somehow. A simple hook connected to a loop repeated three times. There was nothing complex about it at all. He reached out to lift the back strap of the bra with his talon, brushed her skin in the process. Another shiver ran through her, followed by a sound he had never heard from Shepard before. A tiny whimper, a sound so completely feminine that it made him stop for a moment, his hands trembling as he forced down the responding growl that _begged_ to roll through him.

Suddenly, he understood why bras could baffle a male.

The hooks did surrender eventually, and the flimsy looking piece of cloth sprang apart with surprising speed. He didn’t notice. His mandibles were tense, quivering slightly against his jaw as he realized that something about her scent had changed. Dramatically. He knew her scent. They had been crammed together in tight spaces so many times that he would have known her scent from a mile away. He knew her scent when she was fresh from battle; sharp with sweat, mingled with gun oil, ozone and sometimes blood. He knew her scent when she wandered the halls of the Normandy; the crisp smell of clean clothes, clean skin, and whatever lightly woodsy scent she used when she showered. He knew her scent when the sterile conditions at the hospital allowed only hers and his to remain in the room. That scent was forever burned into his memory.

But this was so different that he found himself leaning closer to her, until his face was almost pressed into the red strands of her hair. It was unfamiliar to him, but a soundless rumble rolled through his chest as he took a moment to breathe it in, tasting it. Softly musky and humid, with just a touch of salt, a touch of sweet, and a lot of her mixed in. And it was absolutely delicious. But it wasn’t coming from her hair. Or her neck, which he realized she had exposed to him as her head tipped to the side, causing her hair to spill out of the way. Her scent was not coming from her skin, though he could smell clean sweat. The scent of a Turian woman was completely different when she was aroused, but…

_Spirits, please._

Somehow, Garrus managed to pull himself away from her before he buried his face into her neck and allowed his tongue to taste her. By pure will, he managed to force the soundless rumble to stop long enough for him to move around in front of her again. Her eyes were closed now, and her head was still tipped to the side, her expression dreamy and distant and exposed. She didn’t move again until she felt his talons slide under the straps on either shoulder. He shouldn’t have, he should have been stronger than to give in to his need to touch her. But it was like a physical pain that only grew more intense the longer her skin wasn’t under his hands. Her eyes flickered open to watch him as he slipped his talons under the straps, and pushed his hands further than he needed to until his palms rested on her shoulders. She was so unbelievably soft. Warm skin, only a few degrees cooler than his own, trembled under the touch as he slipped the straps away and down her arms and eyes that never left her face saw her lips part. He imagined that he saw a flash of naked, open need in her eyes and that illusion set his pulse to racing as she allowed him to slip the bra down her arms, off, and toss it away to be forgotten.

He had imagined it, hadn’t he?

What had he been doing again? He felt a moment of panic as neurons refused to fire, refused to let him remember why he had started to undress her. He felt his mandibles quiver, embarrassment washing over him as he realized that he had just put his hands on her without even knowing if she wanted them there. He had sniffed her hair, and almost…

He was so wrapped up in her eyes, and his own self depreciation that he had not seen her move. He had not even realized how close he had been standing to her until he felt the smooth warmth of her hands brush over both of his twitching mandibles. The softness of the caress startled him so deeply, both because of how unexpected it was and how unexplainable it was, that he jerked slightly. Then, everything became clear because her face changed the moment she thought he didn’t want her to touch him. Sorrow had replaced the longing, fear replaced the desire, and pain replaced the need.

_Stupid, Vakarian. You almost let it happen again. It’s time to stop being doubt’s fool._

Her hands started to fall away because of his false rejection, but he covered them before they had time to break contact. She looked almost as startled as he had when he drew her strange five fingered hands back to his face and held them there. Her wide eyes watched the turn of his head as he brought his mouth to her palm, and nipped at the skin their lightly. The pleasure that surged through him when she released a little gasp made his mouth drop open in a smile, and he left her hands on his face as he reached out to cup her cheeks in turn. Leaning close, until his plated brow rested against her smooth one. She seemed to know what the gesture meant, and he watched as all of those confusing ‘somethings’ he had refused to allow himself to believe came back into her eyes.

“Jane…”

* * *

 

She had never seen him this way before.

Garrus Vakarian was the best she had ever known on the battlefield. He was always calm, always confident to the point of being cocky at times. He could pick off a charging husk at 600 meters, and proclaim his skill with a pleased ‘Headshot!’ before without missing a beat between shots. She had seen him grapple with Krogan in hand to hand combat, had trusted his steady hands and calm nerves to take down critical targets, and had been saved more than once by his unfailing ability to cover her back when she charged into the thick of battle. She had watched him be saluted by generals, seen world leaders hang on his every word, and direct armies against unthinkable odds. Yet even when he suffered loss, even when she could see that the weight of it all was crushing, he always had a smile for her, a wise crack, or words of encouragement to keep her going. He had seen entire continents of his world _burning_ and had still been her rock to lean on.

How was she supposed to feel great compared to that?

Yet here he was, the ex-C-sec officer who had become the most important Turian in the galaxy, undressing her. Watching her with such naked desire in his blue eyes that there was no mistaking it, no matter that he was a Turian. The steadiest hands she had ever known trembling as they touched her skin. Oh God, she wanted those hands all over her. She wanted the uncertain restraint that she could see him fighting maintain to vanish so that he would just _touch_ her. The need was so intense that even that light brush of his rough palms up her arms as he helped her remove her shirt caused her skin to vibrate, and a hot flush to color her skin when those deep set blue eyes stared at her.

 _Please,_ she begged him silently. _Don’t see me as your savior. I’m so tired. I just want…_

Every sense followed him through every motion after that, so attuned but still so vulnerable that she had released a surprised whimper of pleasure when she felt his talon at her spine. She felt the slight ache between her thighs as the thought of those steady hands sliding over her, an ache that only increased when she felt the heat of his breath shift her hair just a bit, and dance over the back of her neck. Was he... Smelling her? The thought sent a surprising thrill through her, and the fact that he was so close to her neck made her want to expose herself to him further. But then suddenly he was walking around her again, and when she was half naked in the sunlit bedroom in front of him, he started to hesitate. She could see the uncertainty take over, and reached out to comfort him. Couldn’t he see that she wanted this? _Needed_ him?

When she touched him, feeling the strange but beloved texture and shape of his mandibles , his flinch caught her off guard. The jerky reaction caused her her stomach turn as doubt started to gnaw at her. Had she read him wrong? Was it not desire that she had seen in his eyes, but instead some kind of sickening reverence or awe? Did he somehow think that he couldn’t even let her touch him? Heart splintering, she started to withdraw her hands. She would turn away from him and allow herself to quietly fall apart before she would let him to think of her that way.

Then, his hands were covering hers and pressing them close to the sides of his face in a show of tenderness so unexpected that she jumped just as surely as he had. She watched him with wide eyes as he turned her hand over, and nipped her palm so softly that it felt like a kiss. The sensation of it cause a warmth to spread through the whole of her being, and she saw the grin, felt the amused twitch of his mandibles against her fingers. Doubt fled in the light of blue eyes, and she refused to break eye contact with him as he leaned close to her and pressed his brow against hers. She could feel the low, steady vibration that rolled through him, causing her fears and doubts and pains to drain out of her.

“Jane…”

Her eyes closed, and her throat tightened as a swell of gratitude and pleasure rose in her heart so suddenly that it nearly undid her.She couldn’t even remember that last time she had been anything but Shepard, and Shepard was the last thing she wanted to be now. Tears threatened to spill over, halting the words that she wanted to say so desperately that it hurt.

“Jane,” he said again softly, as she felt the talons of his thumbs glide in a feather-light caress over each cheek. “Look at me, please.”

A sudden, wrenching sob shook her when he said her name again. The tears were allowed to spill when she did as he asked, tracking droplets over the hands that cupped her cheeks with such tenderness. The war was over, and somehow, _somehow_ they had survived it. They had a future…

 

_“So tell me what you want,” Liara said with a slight, knowing smile on her face. “What are you fighting for? A chance to give Garrus some peace?”_

_She had not even hesitated to answer, "He’s been hurt, betrayed,” she replied without thinking as she turned to sit on her bed. “He deserves something better.”_

_She had not missed the disappointment on her friend’s face when nothing more came, and the small shake of the Asari’s head when she spoke made her wonder how transparent her feelings for Garrus had been. “I had hoped that you two would find some measure of peace together.”_

 

…And she decided then that she wasn’t going to waste a moment, looking into the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever known; those of a Turian who was full of concern and hope that it was written over every inch of him. Her best friend, her warrior, her rock, and the greatest love she had ever known.

“Garrus,” she said, her voice clear and certain. Her hand moved to cover his mouth when he opened it to speak and she shook her head gently. Her smile was brilliant, even as more tears fell onto his fingers. “I love you.”

She saw the widening of his eyes as her words registered, felt the tremble of his mandibles before they parted as his mouth dropped open in what she knew to be pleasure. Joy. He literally hummed with it, as the gentle vibration in his chest trilled. She didn’t give him a chance to reply, keeping her fingers over his mouth gently as she looked into the face she had loved for longer than he could ever guess.

“I love you,” she said, leaning close to press her lips to the scared side of his face, again giving silent thanks that he had not died in that grimy apartment on Omega.

“I need you,” she continued, slipping both of her hands into his cowl to wrap them around his neck as the sobs returned. She laid her head on his chest as his arms came around her, and because he seemed to know that she didn’t want him to speak until she was finished he remained silent. “I love you, and I waited so long to tell you that I almost lost you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Garrus.”

As she finally allowed herself to release the grief and pain of the past few years against him, she was dimly aware that he had swopped down to slide one hand behind her buckling legs, lifting her into his arms and holding her tight against him as he carried her to bed. And as he held her, she curled into him and allowed him to carry her through the pain again.

"I love you. I need you."

She lost count of how many times she told him, before she slipped into her first dreamless sleep in years.


	3. Creating Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't have a proof reader. If anyone sees a mistake, please PM me. Don't point it out in a review.
> 
> This chapter was a beast. A very fun beast, but a beast all the same. Longer than both of the previous chapters combined, with a level of detail that required a great deal of research to accomplish. Which is why I split the chapter itself into two parts. The next part will be up in a day, maybe two maybe three. But soon.
> 
> On that note, I will let my readers know... I did a LOT of research on Turian physiology for this chapter, and the following chapter. Game art books, game stills, game videos, ME cannon comics, etc. Of course, some artistic license is taken because I couldn't find any actual cannon reference to tell me what a Turian's junk might look like. LOL So I went with basic anatomy there.
> 
> Anyhoo, enjoy and review. Kudos and bookmarks are food to us writers, but reviews are CRACK. So more reviews = more stories faster. :)

Jane knew she was asleep for a few seconds before she actually woke up. She wondered if it was a side effect of being in coma, the fact that she now seemed to recognize the sensation of unconsciousness enough to pull herself out of it simply by exerting her will. She had no idea how long she slept. She remembered fighting against it when she felt exhaustion dig its claws into the corners of her mind. She had not wanted to sleep; she had wanted to be with Garrus, in every conceivable way. Once the sobbing had ceased, even as she continued to whisper her confessions of love and need to the Turian who held her, she had become aware of him. Aware in a sense that had caused her skin to heat as a little curl of lust started in her belly when she realized that she could feel the muscles of his neck move under her hands every time he nuzzled her hair.

She wasn’t certain if she had ever touched him without one or the other wearing armor before, and she was suddenly very curious about the slightly rough feel of the skin on the back of his neck. Even though it was tougher feeling than human skin, when she had curled her fingers into it and allowed her short nails to follow a line of muscle she felt move as he swallowed, she found out very quickly that it was sensitive to touch. Very sensitive, if the throaty sound that escaped his mouth was the moan it so closely resembled, encouraging her to try again. This time the sound was a near purr, a low vibration that she felt as he tipped his head to the side to allow her easier access behind his plates.

But even as she took advantage of that to slide her hands down around his throat, his voice reached her softly. “Jane, you need to rest.”

Denial was swift, and she had almost found the strength to give that denial voice before it did hit her. The tingles of desire that curled in her belly and were slowly spreading had not been enough to fight back to wave of utter exhaustion that forced her eyes to close as she nuzzled her cheek into the hard surface of his chest. She did remember her last though being how strange it was, that she somehow found him so damned comfortable despite the hard angels of his plates.

Now, she pulled herself from sleep at the annoying chime of the com on the side table on the far side of the bed. She knew it was on the far side of the bed without opening her eyes, because the large form lying beside her (the Turnian form beside her, thank god) gently extracted himself from her and rolled across the bed easily. The sudden lack of warmth, lack of _him,_ instantly made her grumpy. Whoever was on the other side of the line was going to get a…

“This is Admiral Hackett,” came the slightly distorted, but all too familiar voice; one that made her suppress a groan that translated to ‘what the fuck does he want now?’ “It is good to see you, Advisor. I received your report on Commander Shepard’s recovery. I was wondering if we could…”

“No.”

Jane wasn’t sure who was more surprised by the simple, sharp, but absolute certainly of the single word spoken with such calm authority; her or the Admiral. She watched Garrus in silent wonder as he drew himself up to sit on the edge of the bed facing the screen where Hackett remained in the same stunned silence that she felt. Of course, for her it might have been for a completely different reason. She was staring at the plates and exposed sections of hide on his back, which was bare. When had he taken his shirt off? Why did she care _why_? Like those on his face, the plates that covered his back were silvery-gray in color, and starting at that cowl that rose over his shoulders and circled his neck, the overlapping plates fanned downward in a formation that almost looked like one solid piece of thick armor. Her eyes followed them down slowly, taking in every cleft in the plates that exposed skin and committing them to memory. She noticed how they thinned out the further down they went, until towards mid back they began to narrow until they vanished almost completely. The effect was pretty obvious, as the waist was almost fully plate free and exposed from what she could see with his pants still preventing her from seeing below that point.

 _So that’s why Turian lovers are always holding each other around the waist and hips. Oh damn.._. _That’s why he was holding_ me _by the waist when he… In front of other Turians. Well… Hm. Good to know._ She couldn’t fight back the sudden, silly, happy grin that crossed her lips. _That’s really fucking sexy, Vakarian._

Her attention returned to the conversation once Hackett seemed to regain his composure. “Look, I understand that Shepard needs her rest, but there are…”

“No.”

“But the Council…”

“No.”

“She is a hero, the people will…”

“No.”

Silence fell again as Hackett stopped his attempts for a moment, almost certainly trying to rally his calm. Considering the fact that he was being shut down before he could even form coherent sentences, something that Shepard had no doubt he had not been forced to deal with in more than a decade if ever, Jane gave the Admiral points for restraint. She lifted her gaze to the back of Garrus’ head as the Turian drew in a deep breath, and released it in a slow sigh. Then he drew himself up, and started talking.

“Admiral, with all due respect,” he began, making Shepard stifle a laugh. When someone started talking after saying ‘with all due respect’ what came out almost never sounded like respect. “No more. She’s given enough. More than enough. She had given enough years ago when no one would listen to her about the Reapers, and the Council's refusal to believe got her killed. She had given enough when she was brought back from the dead, and was asked to continue fighting. And she did keep fighting; while her friends turned their backs on her, and her own people only offered her token support. And then when all Hell was about to break loose, those same people locked her away for the sake of politics. And the when hell _did_ break loose, she was asked to fight. Expected to fight. And she did, until she had nothing left to give.” Shepard watched in silence as he raised his arm, and the glowing interface for his omni-tool flared to life. With a few taps, he raised his arm so that the transmission could be heard clearly by the Admiral.

 

_“Shepard? Commander!”_

_There was a very short pause, followed by a slight shuffle, as if someone was struggling desperately just to move. And then her voice, weak, exhausted, and sounding near death finally responded._

_“Ngh… I… I… What do you need me to do?”_

He cut the recording short, and then tossed the omni-tool into the side table a little harder than he needed to as he continued, “And still, you asked for more. I want you to remember the sound of her voice here, Admiral. She gave everything she had without a shred of hesitation, and more than anyone else _could_ have. And it was enough. The Reapers are gone, and no one but her could have done it. And that is enough.”

There was a beat of silence again, during which Jane simply couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he spoke of her this way, spoke of what she had been through as the one who had ended the war, he didn’t speak of it with reverence or some sort of hero worship. He didn’t sound proud. He spoke of it with such personal sadness that it made her heart ache.

“Advisor, I just want to…”

“No,” he said again, as simply and firmly as he had each time before. “This is what is going to happen now. You are going to leave her alone. _Everyone_ is going to leave her alone. The Alliance, the Council, world leaders, the press. It doesn’t matter who or why. If anyone wants to speak to her about her health, update her on her family or friends, or just say ‘Hello, I hope things are going well’ then they will do so through me. Nothing, and I mean _nothing,_ is important enough that you can’t find another way to handle it without her. If someday that changes and she wants to get back out there, then she will contact you. You are going to do this because she has earned it. Because the galaxy knows she has earned it. And because if you don’t… I am going to be one very pissed off Turian. _Do I make myself clear?”_

There was a much shorter beat of silence this time, and Jane felt her jaw drop a bit when Hackett replied, “Perfectly, sir. Hackett out.”

Jane wasn’t sure what part of that little exchange had turned her on more; the fact that Garrus had brazenly given a very difficult order to the man who presently commanded the entire Alliance Fleet, or the fact that the order had been _obeyed_. Or maybe it had been the growl in his voice what he had demanded if that order was clear. That sexy, sexy voice. Combined with the wide span of his plated back, bare arms, and ( _Oh yes, please)_ his just as broad chest when he turned to sit sideways on the bed to face her.

“Jane,” he said, just the sound of her name in that flanging purr of a voice making her shiver a bit. Or maybe the shiver came because of the way predatory blue eyes were locked on her, such naked hunger in them as he placed his hands on the bed and started to move towards her. She knew exactly what prey animals on Palaven must have felt centuries ago, watching her Turian stalk towards her, over her until the simple fact of his presence forced her to roll fully on her back and allow him to trap her torso between his hands. His face was inches from hers, close enough for her to see every detail of him in the failing light of day, feel the warmth of his breath huff lightly across her lips, and the vibration of his harmonics in the bed around her. “How do you feel?”

She easily could have taken his question at face value, but she knew him better than that. There was the slightest bit of tease in his voice, and a whole world of lust that told her the question was far more dangerous than a simple health check. Smiling up at him without dropping her gaze, she raised both hands to place them on the pectoral plates of his chest, sliding them outward until she found the first breech where his skin was exposed. Using what she had learned from her short interaction with his neck, she ran her nails slowly up and down the skin there. Her smile grew when she felt the muscles under her fingers tense and twitch, saw his eyes close for a moment as his head dipped down to press his brow against hers. The low rumble that seemed constant from him now only deepened as she watched his mouth fall open and low groan escape him.

“I feel… Rested,” she replied, his voice light and breathy as she tipped her head up to place a soft kiss to his mouth, lingering there for a moment before turning her kiss to his mandibles, both scarred and unscarred. She continued her gentle exploration as her hands moved lower until she could slide them around the exposed flesh of his waist, a motion that caused him to arch his back a bit until his hips press against hers. “I also feel... That if you don’t touch me soon, I might shoot you.”

That brought a short laugh out of him, even if that laugh was a little less laugh and a lot more growl. His eyes lifted to hers for a bare moment, before he lowered them; not to avert them, she realized. He was very focused, and it only took her until he spoke to realize that he was staring at her mouth.

“Jane… Teach me to kiss.”

* * *

 

Garrus wondered if she had any idea how her touches affected him. But it only took one look at her smiling face and pleased bright eyes to know that of course she did; she definitely knew exactly what she was doing to him. A stray thought where he wondered if Mordin had approached her on the SR2 with ‘educational videos’ was wiped away when he felt the pressure of her lips against his mouth. He knew exactly what it was meant to be. Humans did it. Asari did it. He was pretty sure he had even seen a Krogan doing it, with an Asari of course. He also knew that there was more to it than the press of mouth to mouth, but Jane was likely holding that back because she knew it wasn’t the Turian way of kissing.

But damned if he wasn’t curious.

As surprised as he was by the lack of ‘I am in bed with a human. I am in bed with Jane’ nerves, he couldn’t find a reason to question why. It was simple trust. Neither one of them was young anymore and he doubted there was anyone in the galaxy that he trusted more or knew better as a friend than the human half naked below him. The transition to lover would be easy. As much as he understood that taking it slow would be a necessity, so they could learn the differences and similarities that made this all so damned appealing, he was also sure that it would not be the clumsy scrambling around in the dark he had once feared it would be when Mordin had so suddenly and unexpectedly talked to him about ‘ingesting and chafing.’

Spirits, it all seemed so long ago.

He couldn’t even dim the volume of the rumbling moan that rose in his throat when her hands started to explore his waist, a reflexive arch of his back pressing the joint of his groin plates against her hips before he was even aware of doing it. Even through the clothing, the softness of her body molded to the head of his cock, which had just started to emerge from the aperture that housed it. It caused an almost painful pleasure as his plates shifted to make way for the arousal it caused. Then she spoke, and the growl of pleasure was mixed with the laugh her words caused. No, there would be no nervous stumbles between them.

Then he saw her lips. So… Soft. He knew that they were somehow even softer than the rest of her. Flexible when she spoke or smiled, pliant when she pressed them to his mandibles, and right now lightly shimmering with moisture that he knew meant she had just licked them. He had been watching those lips for a long, long time.

“Jane, teach me to kiss” he said at last, lifting his eyes to hers. “I mean kiss like I’ve seen lovers do.”

The clarification may not have been necessary, because there was no hesitation in shimmering green eyes as she nodded up at him. “All right.”

There was a moment of regret when she moved her hands away from his waist, but it didn't linger when she lifted them to place one on each of his mandibles. Being the most sensitive part of the face, he could feel where each one of her soft fingers applied gentle pressure as she stroked them in a slow up and down caress that caused him to vibrate with pleasure.

“First,” he heard her whisper after a few seconds. “Open your mouth. No, not that much. A little less. That’s it.”

He followed her directions without feeling uneasy about it, opening and then closing his mouth bit by bit until he seemed to reach the right level of ‘open’ that she desired. He hadn’t know that kissing would be so precise. It surprised him when she slipped her hands up and back along the side of his neck, and up further until they slipped under his fringe; the sensation that trickled through him caused his eyes to squeeze shut, his mouth to close, and his breath to stop for a moment. It was like the sparks that started a fire running over his skin. He noted from the look in her eyes that she was very aware that his reaction, and the way her mouth twitched at the corners told him that she would remember it. She was observant, and she was learning fast.

“Open,” she murmured, she flicked her gaze down to his mouth expectantly, “and close your eyes.” He obediently opened again just as she had shown him, and allowed his eyes to close. Not resisting in the slightest when she drew him down towards her, and started to press her lips to his mouth gently again. He waited a beat, because he had felt this before. And as pleasant as the sensation was, and as much as he enjoyed her so close to him, it was not exactly what he had been looking for. He was a breath away from mentioning it when he felt the pressure of her lips left him to be replaced by a new, warmer, wetter sensation trailing over the lower portion of his mouth. That in itself was nothing horribly unusual; Turians had tongues of course, and were not shy about using them on their lovers. This just seemed like an odd way to…

He felt her tongue slide into his mouth for a moment, sliding over the soft flesh of his palate in a caress that was almost ticklish. His instant reaction was to sweep his own tongue up to explore the feeling, finding it brushing against hers lightly in a way that drew a surprising moan from her. And he _felt_ the moan where her lips were pressed to his mouth, as clearly as he would have felt a female Turian’s harmonics, and it sent a thrill through him. The newness of being able to feel her voice, feeling every little sound she made gently humming through his mouth was a pleasure he couldn’t describe. He noticed the increase in her rate of breathing as the two very different muscles met again for the second time, almost shyly. But what started as series light, curious touches and tastes gradually became a rhythm of twining around each other, dancing over each other in ways so amazingly sensual that he felt a moment of sharp regret that he had waited so long to share this with her. But it faded as he lowered his chest over her so he could rest on his elbows, freeing his hands to rise and cup her face. Savoring the softness of her skin under his fingertips as he really _tasted_ her for the first time, and lost himself in the moment.

He had no idea how long they kissed, but their mouths were not content with a short affair. He memorized every taste of her, reciprocated her actions by allowing himself to explore her mouth gently before return his full attention to her tongue. At one point, he clearly did something very right when he broke the kiss for a moment, and felt compelled to nip at the softness of her lower lip. The flash fire he had seen in her eyes came only a moment before she tightened her grip under his fringe and pulled him down again, and the kiss from that point was not gently sensual. There was a need in it that caused his blood to burn, and the dance of their tongues became a hungry battle for more. But still… Their hands did not wander. There was no groping, no fondling, no searching for more sensation than they were already sharing. Even with the urgency, the passion of his first human kiss, they seemed to have silently agreed on the pace.

When their lips finally parted, he found her lying back on the bed with her eyes still closed and a look he could only have described as bliss on her face. Her lips looked slightly swollen and pinker than usual, but she ran her tongue over them with a light sound of pleasure a moment before her eyes did open and meet his. “Damn, Vakarian. If you pick up everything else as quickly as you did that, I’m going to melt through the floor before we get much further.”

Mandibles flaring a bit with amusement and a bit of pride, the chuckle that left him felt easy if a little breathless. “I do aim to please,” he purred low, and still savoring the taste of her on his tongue, he nuzzled his way under her chin to find more. He adored the little shiver that raced through her when his mandibles fluttered against her throat, and the breathless moan that he felt rise in her throat before he heard it when he traced a long lick across her shoulder. The taste was different, but familiar in its own way; the salts of clean sweat, mixed with a very mild, earthy tang that he had nothing to compare with. It was instantly filed away as ‘Jane’ in more parts of his mind than he ever would have realized, including the primal part that instantly recognized it as the flavor of his mate. There was an instant desire to taste more of her, which he did not deny him as he nuzzled his way from her throat to her shoulders, pausing for a moment to nip at her collar bone curiously. The small yelp, and soft laugh that followed allowed him to recognize that as a sub erogenous zone before he moved on.

The reactions she gave before he even reached her breasts were telling. Part of it was luck, as he crawled further down her body that the plates of his chest brushed across those odd pink tips they each had and caused her to bite back a moan with such clear effort that he couldn’t help but notice. He kept his eyes on hers as he lowered further, and he noted an increase in her rate of breathing, the flush of her skin, and the slight, but urgent writhing of her hips.

_Eager for me to get to those, at you? Good to know…_

She felt like a string ready to be plucked when he lowered his gaze from her and nuzzled his face between the two fleshy mounds. He was so curious, he almost lost his focus long enough to taste them; to feel them in the palms of his hands, but managed to move past them without more than a whisper of his mandibles over either one. The little whimper of denial that came from her was pure delight to him, and she opened her mouth to beg him back; maybe to let the inexperienced Turian know that he had just passed up a golden opportunity. He knew that she recognized the innocent look in his eyes when her narrowed in a glare that held no actual anger. “You bastard,” she breathed with more than a little humor mixed in with the frustration. “You think you’re so good at this human thing, don’t you?”

He slipped his tongue out to taste her skin again, this time pausing to slide his tongue around the curious little dimple in her belly. Turian’s had something similar, but it was not nearly as noticeable as this. Still, the way her muscles tightened, and the little sounds that left her mouth when he circled it with the tip of one talon had him deciding that it was either sensitive enough to look into later, or she was ticklish.

He finished his exploration of her navel before he even replied to her, keeping his face as innocent (as he possibly could with his hands resting on her hips) as the day he was born. “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

For a moment, he wanted to shift his attention to her waist, because it was something very familiar to him. And hers was a work of art in his mind. Slim, toned, sloping in a smooth line that made his hands itch to touch, to caress, to grip. But he had already been fighting a war with patience, because her scent was all around him. That same scent he had caught from her when he had started to undress her earlier. The musky sweet smell tantalizing to his nose, doubtless because he was absolutely certain of the source now. It was stronger now; deeper, and hotter than it had been before, and the desire to find the source was an instinct that made his lower plates ache and his cock throb in the ever tightening prison of his clothing. So it was with the extreme control of a sniper and the patience of a lover that he looked up at her for confirmation as he slid his talons up her hips until they came to rest on the simple white pants she had been given by the hospital.

He was a little surprised by the relief that washed over him when she gave him a small nod, a small nervous smile, and a small shift of her hips to raise them so he could easily pull the fabric down. Hands turned so that his palms pressed to her skin, he slipped his thumb talon under the band and started to slide them down. He couldn’t help the reverence that came with the motion, just as he could not control the heat of desire that came with every inch of her that was exposed. Her hips, so well defined by her years as a soldier, seamlessly began after the perfect curve of her waist. He watched the contrast of his taloned and plated hands slide over what to him was silky soft skin; just a shade or two darker than white, lightly scarred, and malleable under his touch. Feeling her body quiver under him encouraged him on, until his hands passed her hips and started down her thighs. The rush of _her scent_ that flooded his nose nearly knocked his control into oblivion, and his chest rose quickly as he sucked it in with relish and let it saturate his memory. When he released the breath, it was a with a flanging growl that came out a good bit louder than he had intended. But it only seemed to please her as the scent of her arousal increased, and the goose bumps (he remembered what that reaction was call now) rose over most of her body. He could feel them under his palms as a slight change in her skin texture as he stepped back long enough to finish the job. Slipping the pants off of her feet, which he would explore later, he tossed them aside, along with the underwear trapped in them.

Then standing on his knees beside her, he just stared at her naked body for a moment; breathed in the scent of her as he took in every curve, every line and swell, even the strange coating of curls between her thighs the same flame red color as her hair. Somewhere in his mind, he was aware that he should have been at best curiously interested in the fleshy, plateless, smooth skinned human who looked up at him with a returned shyness glinting in her eyes. But there was a much more powerful part of him, deep down, that knew she was his mate. And he wanted her.

She was magnificent.

“If you were a Turian, I’d be complementing your waist, or your fringe,” he said, placing one hand on either side of her as he climbed back up her body. He didn’t miss the slight uncertainty that crept into her eyes, or the downward tug of her mouth. A mouth that he covered with his own, testing his new found skills at kissing until he felt her start to melt under him, her hands sliding up to slide over his chest as she surrendered to the sensation. When he broke the kiss, he nestled his brow against hers and held her eyes as he spoke softly. “I am very glad that you’re not a Turian. You’re beautiful, and I like you just the way you are.”

He saw the gleam in green eyes at his words, and figured he had gotten that part right, too. He wasn’t uneasy, or clumsy around her like he tended to be with most women. They had been through too much together for that. Now, he would have to…

That was as far as his thoughts got before he was thrown off to the side, flipped onto his back, and found himself pinned under a very naked, sweet smelling, grinning human.

* * *

 

The way he looked at her. More than anything else at this moment, the way he looked at her made her feel… She couldn’t even describe it.

Beautiful.

Desired.

Aroused.

_Safe._

The combination was intoxicating, and wasn’t entirely broken when he started talking about what he would be saying if she were Turian. Not exactly something a human woman wanted to hear, with her Turian (soon to be) lover crawling over her. The kiss chased away those little pinpricks of uncertainty, because god the man could kiss. She felt as if brain cells were misfiring and lights wanted to dance behind her closed eyelids when his tongue danged with hers as if he had been doing it, and doing it well, all his life.

“I am very glad you’re not a Turian,” he was saying as she tried to remember there was solid ground under her, and she wasn’t actually floating away. “You’re beautiful, and I like you just the way you are.”

It soothed that little part of her that foolishly assumed he had been comparing her to his own species, and caused another neglected, very wet part of her to ache in a way she hadn’t felt in years. She decided it was time for her to get more of what she wanted. She was fine with the pace. This slow, almost painful burn that she knew would lead to something amazing in the end. But she was tired of lying back like a placid virgin and letting him do all of the fanning to keep the flames going. So with a gentle touch that he was sure to be expecting she slid her hand under his arm gently, her fingers easily reaching up to touch his shoulder before she pulled his other arm towards her, and pushed the shoulder in the opposite direction. The move was simple, something even a rookie could avoid with a little training. But he was so obviously not expecting it that she had no trouble at all pinning his hands to the bed and straddling his narrow hips as she grinned down at him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, the grin never leaving her face, watching him recover quickly and settled back on the bed to let her have her fun. Her hands relaxed on his arms, and she explored the combination of plates and skin that was a part of what made him so damned fascinating. She curved her fingers into the softer hide behind his elbow, and made a little ‘Mm’ sound when the muscles of that arm flexed and tensed a bit. “You’re sensitive all over where there are no plates, aren’t you?” The idea of it filled her with an almost giddy glee at the possibilities.

“Turians respect personal space,” he replied, and she watched him close his eyes as she ran her hands up the length of his arms, touching every inch of exposed flesh. “Only family, mates, or lovers. We don’t do a lot of skin to skin touching, so when we do it feels… Ah! Like that.”

She savored the short but obvious cry that had escaped him when she had pressed her thumbs into his shoulders, her eyes bright as they moved over his face while his eyes remained closed. She took in every detail of the face that was so familiar to her. She could have painted a picture of him, from every line in his plates, every chip in his blue markings, and every detail of his scar. To her, he was perfect. It was a funny thing now, to remember that she had once looked at the man below her, and seen only an alien.

“Just keep talking, Garrus,” she said, leaning close to press a kiss to one of the sharp tips of his scarred mandible. “Your voice is incredibly sexy.”

His eyes blinked open, and she could clearly see that her words had surprised him. That flutter of his mandibles, and the way his mouth opened for a moment before closing again as he tried to find something to say in response. “What?” she murmured as she allowed her fingers to explore the lines and details of the silvery plates on his chest. “Did you think I went into the main battery so often so you could tell me about tie breakers and nailing recon scouts? I just wanted to hear you talk.”

She grinned as he winced at the mention of his awkward little story about reach and flexibility. _Later_ , she decided silently, _I’ll tell him just how close I came to asking him to relieve some of my own stress that day._

“I… Hm… Had hoped you would forget about that,” he said, clearing his throat before shrugging his shoulders and changing the subject quickly. “But back to my voice. And here I was thinking that you had a weakness for men with scars.”

She heard the humor in his voice, and didn’t let the horrible memory of him lying near death on the floor force its way into her mind. She had more important things to focus on right now. Like the way the plates on his chest swept down in an almost artistic curve towards his stomach, and much like those on his back narrowed to expose the skin around his waist. She was going to reply.

She had a remark already in her mind, as she shifted her hips further back along his to make it easier for her fingers access to all of that exposed skin. And her mind went blank when that shift lined something very solid, very hot, and lightly throbbing with her own aching folds. The bolt of pleasure it sent through her body made her arms shake even as she gripped his chest plates to keep herself upright. She was at least grateful that her moan wasn’t the only one that filled the room at the sensation, but his own growled sound of pleasure was _not_ helping as it vibrated through his entire body and seemed to go right into the center of her aching sex. Her nipples tightened in an instant, and the pleasurable thrum of the sensation left her made her rolled her hips slowly against him. His hands shot to her hips and held her still, which was a bit unfair in her eyes because that didn’t stop own from rising up to grind against her slowly. She couldn’t decide if it was a saving grace, or a damned shame that he still had his pants on. She was pretty sure that otherwise the moment would have ended when she impaled herself on him just to ease the ache of need it caused.

_Guess that kills any doubts about mutual desire._

She gave a bright, breathless laugh of delight as she raised her hips to gain some degree of control. It was a sound of pure happiness, brought on by the fact that she was actually in a position to contemplate mutual desire with the man she had never thought she would have. Her eyes sparkled as she looked down at him, seeing the pleased set of his mandibles and the eyes of a predator locked on her with such feral need she was surprised he had not thrown her onto the bed to claim her already. And _that_ mental image wasn’t helping matters, either.

“I think you’re still a little overdress, Garrus,” she managed after a few deep breaths, moving her hands to the ones still covering her hips. Once he released her, she reluctantly swung her leg over his hips to settle on her knees facing him. She stared down at the bulge that was so clear, and so obviously straining against the fabric of his pants with more than a little wonder. Then she tossed a grin to him at his excited little mandible quiver when she reached down to his pants.

Turian clothing was a bit more complicated than human because of the plates; so rather than just sliding off there were some areas that needed to be peeled apart to make way for the sharper edges and spurs on each calf. It took her a moment to figure it out, during which she stretched out beside him with one arm lying over his hip and her back to him to give her easier access until she managed to pry the folds of the cloth down finally.

_There, that did it… Oh. Oh… Holy shit…_

Her lack of mental acuity still in full gear at the sight of him, she said nothing for a long moment as she just stared, oblivious to the fact that Garrus couldn’t see her face from the position she was currently in. And her sudden lack of movement now that the cloth was no longer a barrier made him shift a bit in minor discomfort. To his credit, which she would later give him for his restraint, he said nothing as she gazed in silent, curious wonder at what lay before her.

Everything about him fascinated her, pulled at her in ways no human man ever had, and the spire of flesh before her was no exception to that rule. The fact that it was a deep shade of blue, almost the same as his markings, was no real surprise; Turians were blue blooded, after all. In fact, she found that the coloring made it somehow more appealing. The shape struck her, though. The overall form was not dissimilar to a humans, in that it had a shaft and a head. That was where the similarities stopped. Rather than flaring out in a crown, the head was slender compared to the rest, and rather than being rounded it tapered upwards into the tip. The shaft thickened on the way downward, curved inward towards his body just enough to keep it from being arrow straight, and fanned out into a series of vertical ridges at the base before it vanished into the aperture of his crotch plates. But what struck her the most was that it was _big._ Not ridiculously so, and certainly not frighteningly so, but all in all she was aware that it would be the biggest she had ever personally gotten her hands on.

 _Speaking of which,_ she thought once she had finished taking it all in. Figuring that her patient Turian had been waiting long enough, she reached out and ghosted her fingers over the length of him slowly. The sudden intake of breath, and the thrilling rumble that came at the light contact was enough to relax her as she explored him with both hands. It was the softest part of him, by far, at least as far as the skin was concerned. Hot to the touch, so much so that she could feel the heat seeping into her palms as she cupped him lightly between both hands. He was also a little damp. No, damp wasn’t the right word. Slick quickly replaced it; she realized that it was naturally lubricated, if only slightly. The blue skin was only lightly textured along the shaft, allowing her hand to wrap around him and slide down the length easily until she reached the short trail of vertical ridges near the thicker bottom. The idea of what those ridges might do to her while he was inside her took her to a whole new realm of dirty thoughts as she traced them with her thumbs. And oh how the change in his now constant vibrations when she did thrilled her; the normally steady thrum lowering to an almost desperate warble when she wrapped both hands around his base and squeezed experimentally.

“Spirits, _Jane.”_

The pleasure and the urgency in his voice made heart beat a little faster. The feeling of his cock throbbing thickly in her hands made her mouth water and her thighs press together as she all but squirmed in place next to him. She was very aware of how hard he was. Smooth to the touch, yes, but she felt like she was holding a piece of living iron. She found herself wanting to taste him.

“You’re going to feel amazing inside of me, Garrus,” she whispered, turning only her head so she could look at him. He had propped himself up on his elbows at some point, and now breathed deeply as blue eyes watched her with an almost dazed kind of lust. She noted that his hands had curled into the sheets, and she was pretty sure she could see the beginnings of cuts where his talons gripped too tightly into them. That made her lips quirk into a grin, wondering just how far she would have to push him to make him shred the sheets. For some reason, the idea of him losing that kind of control because of her excited her to no end and she decided to satiate her own curiosity while at the same time seeing just how far he could be pushed.

Turning her attention back to what she held in her hands, she licked her lips as she considered where to start. She already knew that she had was not sensitive to dextro-amino as Mordin had feared; she had been an officer serving on a ship designed by Turians and humans, and had been expected to have regular contact with the Turians. So she had been tested before coming aboard, so it was without concern that she dipped her head.

“Jane, wait. What abou…”

His concern was silenced by a catch in his throat, and a heavy growl when she took her first taste of him with a light sweep of her tongue over the tip. His taste spread over her tongue slowly, but powerfully. The first thought was how completely different it was. Not just from any man she had ever known before, but from _anything_ she had ever tasted. At the same time, it was not unpleasant. It was as cleanly musky as the scent of him, spicy in the way of something that would give just enough heat on the tongue to make it pleasant to the palate, salty, and… Something else. It was like the memory of a scent that she could almost place, but could never quite catch hold of enough to identify. The effect only made her want more, and she lowered her head further to slide her tongue from one ridge at the base all the way up to the head. She savored the way it jumped as she explored him in a completely different way, rounding the tip with her tongue slowly until his flavor intensified. The precum was not too different from the rest of him, surprisingly. A little darker, maybe, but certainly mellow and savory.

The basic hunger she felt radiating through her for him and what she was doing made her squeeze her thighs together and roll them lightly as a low moan escaped her. She was more aroused than she had ever been, and wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with herself for a moment. She had wanted this for so long, but any fantasies or dreams were coming up far short of the reality. It took her a minute to gather herself, during which she could not find a good reason to stop savoring every growl she pulled from him. Then, after taking his tip between her lips to savor the first slow suck, his reaction made her choice clear. The sudden tension that filled him telling her that it was not something he had ever experienced, followed by a low growl of her name, a rise of his hips and the sudden ‘shrrrck’ that she quickly realized was his talons slicing through the sheets.

 _That. I want more of_ that.

Rising up just a bit, she slid over his legs and nudged them apart so she could settle between them on her knees. Her gaze found his, and she felt a hot thrill race through her. Everything that she felt she could see in those predatory blues as he watched her. It made her heart skip a beat, her skin flush, and her sex ache at the almost primal way his gaze devoured her as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock again. “Garrus,” she began in a voice made husky by lust, “when you’re going to cum, I don’t want you to warn me. I don’t want you to pull away, or try to stop me. Just cum. I want to feel it, I want to taste you. I’ve wanted you since I found you on Omega, and you’re going to let me have you in every way I can.”

His eyes, eyes that she once found so alien and unreadable when she had first met him, now told her everything as her Turian lover watched her with painful need sketched over his face and perhaps a hint of surprise as her admission of how long she had wanted him. He nodded his head slowly once, and opened his mouth to reply when she slipped him into her mouth again, deeper this time. Whatever he had been about to say was drowned in the hissed “Yesssss,” that came instead, heightening her moan of reply as she took her deeper this time. She never took her eyes off of his as she took him halfway in the first bob of her head, seeing his eyes widen and his mandibles clench tight against his jaw. She wasn’t going to tease him anymore, wasn’t going to prolong it. This wasn’t about drawing things out, or showing him something new. She had a hunger, and he had a need; she was going to satiate them both.

The taste of him filled every corner of her mind as she swirled her tongue around him when she drew back, sucking softly on the head again and watching him all but writhe on the sheets in pleasure before sliding down against to set a rhythm. She watched her every reaction as she took him a little deeper with the next stroke, felt the rise of his hips begging for more when she rose again, and the growled sign that was almost relief when she swallowed him again until the tip pressed against the back of her throat. She wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking that she could take all of him, not right now at any rate, but she didn’t think she would need too. His cock was like a living thing all its own, alternating between throbbing, twitching, thickening in her mouth when she swept her tongue over the tip; all signs that she was pretty damned sure would turn out to be universal. Her own thighs were squeezed together, and she allowed the friction against the outer lips of her sex to match the pace of her mouth. She kept her hand firm around the base, quickly finding that squeezing them when she took him deep caused his breath to catch and his hips to jerk, and her own hips jerked in response.

There was the music of more ripping sheets.

He was true to his word, but she was not blind to the warning signs. The quick, unsteady rise and fall of his chest plates, the way his eyes seemed to grow distant for a moment before they close, the tense set of his mouth as a look of bliss overcame him. That she saw, but his cock she felt suddenly lurch and buck against her tongue as the taste of him seemed to intensify further. She drew back, not to remove him from her mouth, but to place the head against her tongue as she moved both hands to squeeze and stroke his shaft and base firmly.

“Spirits, _Jane_!”

His call came only a second or two before the first wave of his seed coated her tongue, and just the sound of that flanging growl caused her hips to squirm and her thighs to clench as the gnawing hunger was fulfilled. Her first taste of his cum was was like heaven to her. Later she would wonder if loving someone so deeply made the difference, but it would never matter enough to change the fact that she found him delicious. Salty, savory, slightly spicy with a noticeable metallic flavor that she had expected given the metal content of his body. And everything about it was delicious to her. The fact that she could see the muscles ripple and tense under his plates as a spasm rocked his body with the rise of his hips only added to it.

She swallowed, felt the next wave come, and then felt just the right amount of friction in just the right place at just the right moment when the pure pleasure of the act was just too much for her hyper aroused body. Then she wasn’t seeing much of anything at all as her eyes slammed shut and she saw explosions behind her eyes; her body shuddered as the orgasm curled and snapped through her with a vicious pleasure that almost had her pulling her mouth from him to release the tension in her own cry. The sudden ripple of inner muscles as her sex clenched caused her to moan around another spurt from him; as if her body was begging her to just finish it. To just slide his cock out of her mouth to let the male mount and take the female until they were both limp and weak and powerless. Instead, she focused on sucking every last moment and every last drop from him while still wallowing in her own needy pleasure.

But like all good things, his orgasm did come to an end. The thick release slowed to a few weak throbs under her tongue, the beauty of tense muscle under plate relaxed and calmed, and the eyes that now watched her were full of content pleasure. And no small amount of wonder, following her every move as she finally let him slide from between her lips with a few gasped breaths that were a mixture of relief and shock and pleasure all at once. She lapped at the head lightly, once. Then twice, until his voice rang out in a low growl that might have been a mix of warning and a helpless beg for mercy at the same time. Then with legs too weak from her own climax to support her properly, she managed to crawl up over him in a graceless wobble that ended when her naked body flopped down next to his and curled close.

It took her a moment of weak writhing and minor adjustments before she found a place to lay against him without his plates digging into her more vulnerable flesh. But she was pleased, too, that it only took a moment before she was comfortable, his arm was around her, and they were left to listen to each other breath in the otherwise silent room.

Even when their breathing had evened out, and her body began to cool slowly, the silence was comfortable. For the first time in a long time, she realized. He was her best friends, and was always there to support her, advise her, take advice from her, or just trade little stories. But the silence had not been comfortable with him for a long, long time. She understood why, she realized as she nuzzled her face into the warm hide of his shoulders. Silences that should have been comfortable had become tense, as the silence reminded her of everything she should have been saying. One of them would always cut the silence with a joke to end the stalemate, but she was sure that they had both been fully aware of the loss. She felt a sharp stab of regret try to slip past the peace of the moment, but pushed it aside for later. There would be time to clear the air. They had time now. They had a future.

He stirred beside her, and she released a little noise of complaint when he started to move, until she realized he was turning to face her. Sharp blue eyes met her softer emerald as he leaned in close to press his brow to hers, the low pleased hum of his harmonics soothing any lingering regret away. Arms folded in front of her, she curled herself closer to his chest and smiled lightly as she felt his talons sliding up and down her arms softly. She knew that those very same talons had made ribbons of the sheets, and she also knew that she never needed to worry about them ever hurting her.

“So,” he began, the low rumble of his voice through his chest making her shiver a bit. Damn it, why was he so sexy? “That was amazing. I take it you already knew that you wouldn’t go into anaphylactic shock.”

His almost conversational tone after she had just clearly blown his mind (and other impressive parts of his anatomy) made her smirk slightly. “The original Normandy was an Alliance/Turian cruiser,” she explained. “We were all tested before we were taken on as crew. While we didn’t have any Turians on the crew at first, it was expected that there would be joint Turian/Human ops; which meant there was a good chance of being exposed to levo and dextro blood. I’ve known for a long time that I’m not allergic to you.”

“Ah,” was his only reply, as the feather light touch of his talons traced over her shoulder before sliding down again until his three fingered hand slipped over hers.

She yelped a bit when he pulled her hands apart, pinned them over her head, and rolled over on top of her. Feeling the press of his plates against her bare skin, the strength of his arms as she tested his hold on her, and the heat of his breath on her neck as he lowered his head to nuzzle her had little sparks of desire starting a whole new flame. She stared up into his eyes when he raised them to look down at her, and was a little stunned to see that the hungry, predatory intensity had returned full force. Or had never left.

“Well,” he said, making her moan as the low growl rolling through the plates of his chest all but vibrated against her nipples. “I’m not ‘allergic’ to you either. And we're just starting...”


	4. Learning to Live Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has not been proof read, not even by me (yet.) If you see errors, let me know. I am sure they exist.
> 
> This picks up in the exact spot the last chapter ended, because they are actually one chapter.
> 
> This may, or may not be the last chapter. I will decide if people let me know that they want to see more.

Garrus wanted more. He tested the waters with light touches to her arms; just lingering, soft caresses like the ones he had brushed over her skin when he had first started undressing her. Those had quickly changed her mood, changed her scent to one of desire. So he tried them again, and the result seemed to be exactly what he was looking for. So he moved as suddenly as she had before she had done those _amazing_ things with her mouth, spreading her arms and pinning her hands to the bed firmly. He clearly heard the hitch in her breath when he leaned close to nuzzle the column of her throat softly, humming against her skin before lifting his gaze to meet hers.

“Well, I’m not ‘allergic’ to you either,” he said as he pressed his chest down on top of her lightly. “And we’re just starting.”

It surprised him slightly when she moaned, and he felt the shift of her body that he quickly realized was a roll of her hips. She seemed exceptionally sensitive, in a good way. But rather than giving him the chance to search out this mysterious cause of her pleasure, she reached up with both hands and cupped his mandibles. The touch soothed him more than anything else, and he wondered if she had already figured that out when she spoke.

“Garrus, we can wait if you need to,” she said, not sounding at all convinced that she actually wanted him to wait for much of anything. “I know you may not be ready, and you don’t need to push it for me.”

Rather than be insulted by the way she questioned his stamina (because as gently as she might have worded it, that was exactly what she had just done,) he found the whole thing rather opportune. He let his chest rise and fall in a sigh that he tried his best to pass off as dejected; disappointment clear in the uneasy twitch of his mandibles as he lowered his brow to brush over hers. He saw loving understanding come to her gaze, and he was sure she was ready to take his actions as a confirmation of her words. It took quite a bit of control to keep from laughing before he spoke, his mouth nuzzling against her cheek.

“Jane, I think you misunderstand,” he spoke, letting a purr reverberate against her skin just a touch more deeply than was normal before starting to gently nibble his way down the line of her jaw and back to her throat. “You’re under the mistaken impression that what I am about to do, I am doing for you. And while there will be a certain amount of… Collateral sensation you’ll have to endure,” he continued, sitting up on one elbow beside her as he brushed his other hand slowly up the curve of her waist, savoring the way she shivered and bit down on her lower lip when he lightly traced the outline of one rib with his talon, “This is about _me_. This is about how much _I_ want you.”

He really loved the way her eyes widened as he said that, and then the way they closed tightly as she bit back a moan when his hand to brush up the slope of her breast, falling just short of her nipple. He wrapped all three fingers around the soft mound, and very carefully allowed them to brush upward until that hard nub at the tip was oh so gently trapped between the pad of his thumb and one talon. Then his gaze darted up to her face when she cried out sharply, finding her head thrown back and a look that could only be described as surprised pleasure. He decided to try a tiny tug on her nipple, and was rewarded when she groaned his name in such beautiful pleasure that he almost abandoned the desire to finish his little game. Almost.

_Even more sensitive than I expected. Good. I can work with this…_

“Jane,” he said in a low rumble, his hand not moving now as he waited for her to notice him. She writhed in place, and seemed to be doing her best to press her breasts into his hand again. But it wasn’t until she opened her eyes and looked at him in confusion as to why he had stopped that he continued. “You stopped paying attention. You need to let me finish.” He shushed her with a raised hand and a shake of his head when she opened her mouth to speak, causing her to fall into stunned silence. He was enjoying this entirely too much. “Don’t make a sound until I’m done, or I will just to keep stopping until you can focus. Understand?”

Watching her jaw go slack in disbelief, he almost laughed when the jaw tightened and set firmly. A look he knew too well coming over her before she gave him a curt nod. Determination. No one in the galaxy could do determination like Jane Shepard, and no matter how hard he would make it (and he planned to make it very, very hard) he knew that she would keep her silence until he was finished. No matter how much it tormented her to do so.

“Good,” he purred in obvious delight, earning a glare from her that lacked actual anger. She looked more… Impressed, interested, and aroused behind those tightly sealed lips and narrowed eyes. He planned to add pleading to that list before he was finished talking. “Now what was I saying?” he seemed to consider, as he returned his gaze to her breasts. Turning a bit into her, he rose to one knee to free his other hand to explore her. Because despite the game he was playing with her, he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on her body. Every last inch of it.

He kept his hands gentle as he now leaned over her to use both to cup her breasts. They were so… Fascinating. The skin was as soft as the hide of a newborn, and they were firm enough to hold their shape as he gently rolled them in his hands, but malleable enough to mold to his fingers at the same time. He knew what they were for, biologically speaking, but biology had been kind to humans in this respect. The fact that they were so sensitive, brought her such pleasure had immediately made them arousing to him as well. He no longer wondered why human males were so obsessed with them; especially not when he allowed the tips of his talons to painlessly brush over the tip of both nipples, causing her back to arch and the green of her eyes to darken with lust.

“Ah, now I remember,” he said, as he lowered his head to one of her breasts. He saw her eyes go wide in what almost looked like fear; a reaction that he knew came only from the fact that she would have to stay quiet through it. And he gave her credit. The way her body shook when he ran his tongue in a lazy circle over the mound, before finally flicking it over that hard tip, he had expected something. A whimper, at the very least. But she made not a sound, even though the pace of her breathing had increased a notch, and he swore he could feel the beating of her heart against his tongue. He nuzzled her nipple as he continued to speak and just to be completely unfair, he thickened the tone of his harmonics as he brushed his mouth over the pink flesh of her right nipple. It caused her eyes to flutter, and he swore for a moment that actually heard her swallow a sound before he continued. “When you’re going to cum, I don’t want you to warn me. I don’t want you to pull away, or try to stop me.”

The growl in his voice was not a part of the game when he mimicked her words. Obviously he was doing everything right, because her scent was so thick now that it swam around him, invading his nose and teasing his palate with the faintest, unsatisfying hint of what she would taste like. That scent was making it hard to think, hard to focus on talking when all he wanted was to bury his head between her thighs and feast on her until the almost painful need was sated. But he had started the game, so he would see it finished. She wasn’t the only one with iron control.

He saw a flash in her eyes when he ran the palm of one hand slowly down the plain of her stomach; felt her strong thighs actually tremble when he brushed his talon through the soft curls of red hair between them before nudging her legs apart just enough to give him access. And finally felt her hips jump, a spasm rocking her body when he slid the broader pad of his finger over the lips of her pussy slowly. He found her to be incredibly hot, and felt her juices coat him with just that single touch. The rumble of his harmonics rose, and he when he nuzzled his face between her breasts this time it was to distract himself from the flare of lust that nearly drove him out of his mind.

Somehow, though he was sure it was going to kill him to continue this level of control, he managed to speak in a clear tone when he kept using her own words against her. “Just cum, Jane. I want to feel it,” he said as he slipped his finger away from her sex. _Now_ he heard something from her; a desperate whimper deep in her chest that never made it past her tightly sealed lips. Lips that he noticed were pressed together so tightly that they were white and almost invisible. There was a glimmer of sweat on her brow that showed the effort keeping control took. He made things worse for both of them, when the finger that was soaked in the scent and taste of her rose to his mouth.

“I want to taste you.” And though in some minor way it was a part of the show, mostly he allowed his tongue to slide out and taste her just because he was starving for it. Their eyes locked, and he held her gaze as the slide of his tongue pulled her finger into his mouth for his first real taste of her. The heat that passed between blue and green should have caused the air to combust. His harmonic thrilled lowly, and his moan was half growl when the musky, salty, earthy tang of her almost crushed what was left of his willpower. He savored it, even knowing that there was more to come, until there was not a hint of her left on his talon before sliding it out of his mouth. Now the whimper from her was real and audible, though she swiftly swallowed it into the back of her throat. He let it pass. He realized she was holding her breath to stop further sounds, and he suddenly found no trouble getting the rest of the words out.

“Because I have wanted _you_ since you walked out of the wreckage of Sovern on the Citadel,” he continued, not missing the way her eyes widened at the admission. Now he was moving down her body with his hands, and following those hands with the rest of his body as they trailed down over her waist. She had such a beautiful waist; the perfect curve of it allowed him to easily slide his palms further down over her hips and under her thighs. “And you’re going to let me have you in every way I can. Do I make myself clear?”

The final question, which as much him giving her leave to speak as it was a command, was quickly followed by the gasped rush of her breath leaving her in a cry of relief. She had been holding back more than he expected, and her body seemed to come alive under him. Her thighs parted willingly and pressed into his talons, her hips arched, and her hands bunched into the sheets tightly as she looked up at him with the most openly pleading look he had ever seen. Much to his delight, the breathy gasp of her voice was just as pleading. “ _Yes_! God yes, Garrus. _Anything_. Just please, _please_ do something with your mouth other than talk!”

Not a single smart remark came to mind, which would have been disappointing any other time. Now he could find few words as he stretched out, and settled between her parted thighs. He was a little struck by how different she was to a Turian woman. There were no plates to part, no single slit to tease and arouse before mating as with his previous lovers. There were folds, lips, a swell of flesh on either side that was covered with the same light coating of red curls he had seen on the swell above her sex, a bump of some kind towards the top that he dared not touch until he was more sure of himself. And here for the first time he did see actual pink flesh, as he reached out with extreme care to slide his fingers over the outmost lips. He purred when her hips rolled at the touch.

All in all, it was… Beautiful.

But most striking to him was how _wet_ she was, and how the sweet musk of her surrounded him. Even the lightest touch of his talons came away slick with her, and he could see the shimmer of it freely coating her groin and further down the cleft of her rear. When he spoke this time, he did so quietly; the cocky teasing in his voice now pure wonder as he looked up to see her watching him. “You’re so wet. Is that normal?”

Her laugh was weak and breathless, and it was obvious that she was forcing herself to calm while he took his first look at his human mate. “Garrus, I’ve never been this wet before. You… I don’t even know how to explain what you do to me.”

Something dark rose in him, something primal that responded to her words in a surprisingly hungry way. The need to possess her so intense that it drew a low, soundless rumble from a deeper place than his passion had ever reached; his mind was flooded with the idea that she was _his._ He wanted to mark her, to claim her, an urge that he had never felt with another woman before her. No one else had done what he did for her, and no one else ever would. It sent a tremor of pleasure and need through every cell in his body, and this basic level of lust caused his cock throb against the sheets as the desire to take her struggled with his desire to finally taste her.

Apparently, the little inner war had not gone unnoticed. The way she watched him now, as he watched her so intensely, had changed. The mixture of longing, arousal, love, and even a hint of fear in her eyes making him believe that she knew exactly what he wanted in that silent moment. He set it aside, even while doing so knowing that it was not something that would be put off for long.

Now he just focused on wanting the taste he had teased himself with moments before. He considered for a moment before deciding that best way to give him full access was by sliding his hands behind each of her thighs, lifting them without resistance to set them over his shoulders. This put his mouth right where he wanted it to be, and caused her to shiver deliciously as his breath washed over the folds when he breathed her in deeply. That one breath was enough, though. So much hotter now that he was so close, he was drawn to it. The flick of his tongue over his mouth plates followed by a much slower, much more deliberate draw of the blue muscle over the outer lips.

And _Spirits,_ the taste of her was incredible, powerful and unique; the musky tang of her filtering everything else out of his mind so effectively that he even missed her incoherent babble of “Ohthankgod!” as he tasted her again with a little more urgency. He allowed his tongue freedom from his mind for few moments, and just allowed himself to follow the flavor; so what began with a slick trail of his tongue over her outer folds, quickly flowed inward as he found the source of the heat. He knew how to please a Turian woman, but he quickly found that she was so much more responsive. The lightest touch with of the tip of his tongue caused her breath to hitch, and the increased pressure when he dipped into her center without actually slipping into her tore a cry of painful need from her. And her need urged a rumble to rise from his chest as he nuzzled his mouth against her to dip a little more deeply.

That seemed to make one hell of a difference. He wasn’t sure if it was the touch of his mouth, the depth of his tongue, or the hum of his voice that caused her to so suddenly shift from a complacently patient woman to an urgent, desperate female. But what he did know was that her back arched off of the bed, and her hands left the sheets to slide under his fringe. The way she curled her fingers desperately into his flesh where his spinal plates began caused another growl of lusty hunger to rise from his chest as his hands moved to grip her waist tightly enough to dig his talons into her skin, intent on keeping her from fleeing. He was dimly aware that the gesture was entirely instinct, and entirely Turian, but he didn’t care and she certainly didn’t seem to mind in the slightest as she sought to pull him closer with a ferocity that drove him to comply.

He explored on every level, touched and teased every fold, but mostly he allowed himself to feast on her. He was being selfish and greedy as he allowed his action to be dictated by his own need to devour every bit of her, licking, and nipping just to saturate himself in the taste of her. But from the way her hips started a slow rolling grind against his mouth as her cries became almost constant exclamations of pleasure, he must have been doing something right. The red flush of pleasure that spread over her body was accompanied by a change in her scent and taste; his tongue seeking it out eagerly, sliding deeper than he had before drawing back to gather the juices that so tantalized him.

It was that motion that first brought him into contact with the curious little hooded bump.

The sudden change in the way her body moved when his tongue brushed over her clit made him fear that he had done something to hurt her. Her muscles went ridged, her thighs clenched around his head, his fingernails actually bit into his hide deep enough for him to feel pain, and her back was arched in a way he was sure had to be painful. When he saw her face, saw the tightness of her jaw and the thin line that was her mouth, he was so sure that he had hurt her that he withdrew his tongue with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Did I…?”

When his tongue withdrew, her breath left her in a rush and she was suddenly all motion again. But _now_ it almost seemed like pain on her face when she desperately raked her fingers down the back of his neck, her eyes more than a little wild as she looked at him pleadingly. “No no no, please don’t stop Garrus! Ngh! So close… Sooooo close!”

He obeyed her when she bent her legs to press her heels into his shoulders, a move that spread her wider, gave him easier access when he dipped his head to slide his tongue from entrance to clit slowly. Her body tense again when his tongue brushed that hard little nub, but this time he didn’t stop. He lavished her sex with hungry attention until he felt tense muscles begin to tremble, and became all too aware of how the taste of her intensified when she bucked her hips against his mouth.

When she started to cry out his name repeatedly in a way that made his blood simmer and his male pride swell in his chest, he slid his tongue into her deeply with a throaty rumble of delight rolling through him. When he felt her belly flutter against the hands that held her waist, heard her breath catch in her throat, he decided that it had obviously been the right thing to do. She all but screamed his name in rapture, her fingers scrambling over the back of his neck and up under his fringe as if they couldn’t decide what to do, and couldn’t stay still long enough to latch onto anything solid. Her thighs tensed around him, and he felt the flutter of her inner muscles before they squeezed around his tongue tightly. He could have sworn he felt her temperature rise as she came, the flavor of her coating his tongue anew as she trembled and quivered and clenched around it.

He found himself readily agreeing with her earlier comment; it was going to feel amazing when he was inside her.

It surprised him when she didn’t start to really settle, even when it became clear from the relaxation of her body that the climax had passed. She was breathing deeply, as was expected. Her entire bod was flushed in the aftermath of what he hoped had been a good, hard orgasm. She certainly wasn’t complaining, from the way she looked at him with green eyes bright with passion and dazed with pleasure. But when he slipped his tongue out of her with a slick lap over the outer lips to take that one final taste with him, it caused her to whimper a bit as her hands moved from the back of his neck to the plates of his shoulders. And she was suddenly pulling on him, and there was a different kind of desperation in her eyes when she spoke.

“Please, Garrus,” she said, her voice trembling as he allowed himself to be pulled up over her. Her thighs remained parted, as she wrapped them around his narrow hips tightly to draw him close. His harmonics skipped a note, before he rumbled heavily when the motion caused his cock to press wetly along the soaked folds of her sex. He almost, _almost_ slid inside before he even knew what was happening, and that caused her to groan against his mouth when she pressed her lips again against it hungrily. He willingly acquiesced, tongues meeting, dancing with a surprisingly tender soft of hunger between them before she drew back and started to rain kisses along his mandible. “I need you. I _need_ you inside of me.”

He almost managed an intelligent, verbal reply before she nuzzled her way under his chin and sank her teeth into the vulnerable hide on the side of his throat with an almost painful force. His eyes widened, and the moan that tore its way up was laced with her name. Torn apart by need, love, and a sudden surge of instinct that he couldn’t deny any more than he could deny her, the Turian buried his claws into the mattress, angled his hips and gave her exactly what she needed.

* * *

 

Cumming . Orgasm. Climax. Release. Peak.

In the past, she had used all of those words to describe the final pleasure of sex. And she had enjoyed it in the past, had enjoyed her time with her lovers and would not cheapen what she had shared with them by saying that they had meant nothing to her. But this… The bliss that was manipulated out of her by this magnificent Turian was so far any beyond anything she had ever felt before that she found it unfair. She couldn’t even being to understand why it was so different. And that thought made her want to laugh, because the _different_ was so vast with her alien lover that it would likely never feel normal as she understood it. But that was a good thing.

Yet what kept running through her mind, even as the pleasure slowly started to drain out of her, and his tongue withdrew from overheated folds, was that this must be what it really meant to share pleasure with someone you loved. There was no other explanation. Her arousal was beyond anything reasonable. She had been with handsome, hard bodied men in the past. When she saw human males she could appreciate their beauty, their male attributes and felt no change in that area. But when she looked at Turian males, she saw… Turians. Not as alien as they once had been, certainly. But just Turians. She felt no desire for them, got no flutter in the belly or tingle between her legs. She had even tried fantasizing about Primark Victus as an experiment; he was a powerful man, and she figured he would be considered attractive among his own people and he was also the only Turian she had spent any real time around aside from Garrus. But had ended up laughing at the idea, had felt not even a tickle of desire, and ended feeling just a little dirty when she looked at him for a day or two afterward.

And yet, for what seemed like forever now, every time she set her gaze on blue eyes, silver-gray plates, long limbs, broad chest in heavy armor, rumbling voice, sharp wit, scarred face… It did to her _exactly_ what it did to her now when she looked down between her legs and found him looking back. And damn it, no matter how completely different he was, she found him so incredibly sexy. Not the flutters of a teenage crush, or the heat of a first love, or even the simple ache of lust. She needed him so desperately that it had frightened her for a long time. Of course that fear was past, and she was here with him now making her feelings for him perfectly clear.

Maybe it was the understanding of these things that made her need suddenly spike again even as her body tried to cool. Or maybe it was the thought that they had waited long enough. Or maybe it was that damned vibration that made her bones melt when he lapped at her that one last time as if trying to memorize her scent. Whatever the case, she suddenly _needed_ him inside of her with a ferocity that felt like a physical hunger. Even as she pulled him bodily to cover her with his own strange, rough, beautiful broad plated chest, she made her intentions as clear as possible.

“Please, Garrus,” she said with a tremble in her voice that was beyond her control as her lips found his mandible. She clamped her thighs around his hips; all but forced them closer until she felt the throbbing heat of his shaft nestle against her sex. She was sensitive, so wonderfully, painfully sensitive so soon after climax that the pleasure she felt was almost painful when she arched herself into him to increase the friction and she felt the rumble of pleasure as much as heard it when she pressed her lips to his mouth. She felt him hesitate for half a breath before he was kissing her back with every bit as much passion as she had hoped. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it made her sex clench in remembrance of exactly what that tongue could do to a woman.

When she broke the kiss and turned her attention to his mandibles, she was already shaking with fresh waves of lust. He wasn’t moving fast enough for her now. She had to encourage him to meet her where she was now. “I need you. I _need_ you inside of me,” she finished, and did something that she hoped made him understood.

She bit the hell out of him.

She was pretty sure that if he had been human, she would have just taken an actual chunk out of him. But his hide was thicker, and a bite that made her jaw ache with the force she put behind it simply left marks deep enough to bruise. But oh, the reaction it got was perfect. She felt his body stiffen above her, and felt as much as heard the feral rumble that was torn from his chest before she found herself shoved back into the bed with a firm hand to the center of her chest. When she lifted her eyes to his, she found a predator staring down at her. She wasn’t given the chance to form a thought beyond that when he lowered himself over her, and nipped at her throat. She almost had a chance to groan that it wasn’t enough, damn it, before she realized that his hips were shifting against hers as he placed both hands on the mattress on either side of her. The rough feel of his plates was only a momentary concern before he drove himself forward.

There was a rush of pain at his sudden entry, and she felt as though her breath had sucked from her lungs at the sudden rush of sensation. Then she gasped in the scent of his hide as she buried her face between his neck and his cowl, every breath for a moment burning with the intensity of the sensations, both physical and emotional.

Later, she would privately find that the feeling of him inside of her for the first time was somehow similar to when she had risen from the dead. Removing everything but the basic sensation, that is what it felt like for a few seconds. There was pain, there was a nagging fear, but there was also an absolute necessity to feel more for the sake of survival. It wasn’t until much later that she would realize why they two moments reminded her of the other.

Finally being with him was like learning to live again.

And like before, after the sharp intensity of the pain, there was a soothing calm as the universe just seemed to shift into place around her. The lingering numbness, the feeling of cold that had surrounded her heart since the Reapers attacked was shattered and cast aside. It was a glorious release, sweet and painful and perfect as she felt the heat of his flesh throbbing within her, as if to prove that he was just as warm and alive as she was.

It wasn’t until she felt the feather light touch of talons brushing across her cheeks that she became aware of her own tears. Opening her eyes, she found a man who had once been an alien staring down at her with naked concern. A perfect, beloved, and much needed man that she doubted she could find the will to live without. Her smile was light, and so clearly happy that she saw him relax. She was pretty sure he understood, and any sign of fear that he had hurt her fled from her smile when he leaned close to press his forehead to hers. Her hands moved to his face, fingers ghosting over his mandibles softly as they took a long moment to just look at each other.

“I love you, Garrus Vakarian,” she said softly, and her smile softened when she felt the thrill of his harmonics deepen and intensify for a moment, just as she had the first time she had admitted it to him. “Does that mean you love me, too?”

When he gave a very small nod, the motion caused her own head to bob a bit before he replied, “You must know that I do. Love you, that is. I mean, wait,” he sighed silently, and then chuckled a bit when she smirked up at him and tried again. “I love you, Jane Shepard.”

Her smirk softened into a smile, and she lay silently with him on top of her as he continued to caress her cheeks. Final, not really in a hurry now, she asked, “Now that we’ve started, are you going to finish making love to me?”

It was his time to smirk, and his mandible twitched slightly as he bumped his mouth lightly against her lips. “I am pretty sure I started this when we first walked through the door,” he said, and she savored the pleased purr of his flanged voice as she gave a little laugh. He waited for a moment before he continued in a softer tone, closing his eyes and kissed her again. “Give it a minute. This is nice, right as it is.”

“It is,” she agreed just as softly, and nuzzled her mouth against his lightly and held it there. No hurry now, no hurry when they had time to just be together like this.

There was more kissing, though it was not the same hungry battle of tongues as before. Just a gentle touch of mouth to mouth, and a tiny taste of tongue to tongue, a breathed in sigh and a breathed out whisper. A light nip here, a gentle nuzzle there, and a few soft words thrown in because she did so love the sound of that voice no matter what he was saying.

When it started, they started it together. One kiss lingered longer than the others, and was ended with a light nip to her lower lip that had her moaning and her mouth searching eagerly for the next. They started as if they had never seen each other’s bodies before. Hands started to move again, hers finding a patch of hide running down his side that brought a moan out of him and caused a throb of his cock within her that washed away the pretense of innocent. His hand danced over her shoulder, and then around behind her to trace a talon softly down her spine; the way she arched her breasts into the plates of his chest made him purr in delight. His tongue tasted the cooled sweat on her throat easily, while her hands wandered down to slide around his waist. Both actions caused their hips to shift against one another, as the sparks reawakened the fire between them.

Even as the heat started to build again, it was that continued exploration that caused him to notice the angry red blotches between her thighs where his hip plates were rubbing against her skin. “Jane, you should have told me,” he said, clearly not angry. Just a little… Annoyed that she had kept her discomfort from him.

She tightened her legs around him and looked unapologetic as she refused to allow him to pull away from, or out of her. “I’ve had Reapers fall on my head, Garrus,” she pointed out, as she tried to distract his attention with a firm slide of her fingers along the hide alongside his chest plates. The effect was clear, and she swallowed a moan as his cock pulsed inside of her thickly. “A little chafing is _not_ going to stop me from having you.”

“Hm,” was his only reply, a sound that came out as a half growl that sent shivers down her spine when he lightly closed his mouth over one nipple. And the bastard _distracted_ her with that little wave of pleasure, enough to allow him to take her ankles in his hands and spread her thighs from around his hips. She almost growled at him herself, before she felt him slide himself out of her. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her. The sudden feeling of such emptiness was almost depressing when she considered that he might actually want to stop because of some stupid scratches.

“Garrus, no, please…”

Her whimper and protests were cut off when he slipped his hands down her calves slowly, and then gently used them to roll her onto her side facing away from him. Eyes a bit wide, she turned her head to watch him as he stretched himself out behind her partway, making some minor adjustments until one arm was wrapped around her from below, and his hips nestled against hers. All protest was gone when he lifted one of her legs and draped it over his at the same moment that he used his other hand to guide himself back into her from behind.

And _that_ felt fucking amazing. She wasn’t even sure if he had done it intentionally, but the pads of the fingers he used to guide himself back into her had nestled against the hood of her clit just as his tip found where it belonged. Her moan was not quiet; she was more than happy to grind back against him until their hips were flush and she felt the ridges at the base of his shaft press against her outer lips. That sensation set her hips to rolling as heat coiled in her belly when he drew back and thrust into her once firmly. _Oh god, I’m about to…_

She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop it. The heat of his breath trickling down her throat as he rumbled her name into her neck with that sexy-as-hell voice, and his arm wrapping around her waist to draw her close as he sheathed himself inside of her without restraint. It all slammed into her core at once, and she tipped over the edge so suddenly it shocked her. The pleasure spread through her from too many points for her to count, though it most assuredly centered on the length of blue cock nestled deep inside of her. The cry that came from her had no name, or no words tangled in with it. It just needed to be let out in a feral yell that had nothing to do with intelligence and everything to do with that final release.

On some very visceral level, she was aware of him as well. Jane wasn’t sure if he had been holding back more than she realized, or if he had been driven over the edge by the sudden explosion of passion that threatened to cloud her mind with unconsciousness. But she felt him thrusting into her with a sudden urgency before she was even halfway through her own pleasure. She felt him throbbing as one hand kept her close, and the other moved to grip her hip tightly enough that she was sure she felt him draw blood from her for the first time. And the fact that he could be so lost in passion that he lost control for a moment sent her pleasure that much higher as she felt the jerk and pulse of his length inside of her. The rush of liquid heat that filled her as he came made her eyes close, and even in the midst of her own orgasm she felt a warmth spread through her just knowing that her need for him was matched by his need for her.

It was a slow climb back into the real world for both of them. She tried to focus on everything at once, and was amazed to find it somewhat easy. She could feel the swift rise and fall of his chest against her back, and the cooling sensation of his breath huffing over her sweaty skin. She could feel the simple, pleasant weight of his cock stretching her, and the light sensation of pressure and wetness that she knew was his cum settling inside her. She felt the light sting where his talons had bitten into the skin of her hip, and managed not to feel at all smug about the fact that he had lost control because of her.

Then she felt his hand slide over the wounds, and felt what must have been the wetness of blood. And he clearly felt it too, because she felt him tense and raise his head. Before he could move further, she quickly covered her hand with his own and pinned his hips with the thigh still draped over them.

“Don’t,” she said in a voice that was just a little drowsy, and a whole lot content. “I’ve never felt better _in my life_ and you’re not going to ruin it by having a macho Turian ‘I should have controlled myself’ moment. Do I make myself clear, Vakarian?”

She smiled slightly when that seemed to calm him and he settled back against her with a low thrum in his chest that reminded her of a cats purr for a moment. The sound only lasted for a few seconds before he nuzzled his face against the side of her neck again, breathing deeply before he spoke.

“You realize that means I’ve marked you, and you’ve accepted it,” he said softly, and she could feel him sitting up on one elbow beside her to slide the palm of his hand up and down her arm in a light caress. It was making her eyes want to stay closed for longer and longer periods of time. “That means you’ll have to marry me now.”

And just like that, she wasn’t sleepy.

At all.

She felt the little knock in her chest as she digested the words, his tone, what he was doing. She knew the man. She _knew_ the man, and she couldn’t find a single thing in his voice that said he was joking. She waited a beat, trying to gather the thoughts that he had just blown into a million pieces with a few softly spoken words before she slowly turned her head to peek up at him.

That face that she knew and understood so well was turned towards her, calm and patient. Blue eyes were full of what she now recognized as love, mingled with hope and a little worry. And just enough fear to make it real. Once she realized what it was he feared, she gave her answer.

“Yes.”

She saw the fear and worry drain away from the eyes she loved more than she could express, replaced with everything that she felt and wanted to keep feeling until they were old, and wrinkled, and had faded from the memories of the galaxy. She closed her eyes as he leaned close, and rested his forehead against hers lightly. That trilling rumble rose in him, and she replied by caressing his scarred mandible with one hand lightly.

“Good,” he said after a moment, and after lightly bumping his mouth to hers he continued with twitching mandibles. “Because I was planning to ask you every day until you took pity on this love sick Turian by reluctantly saying yes just to shut me up. It would have reeeeally cramped my style.”

Her laughter was light and happy as she reached up to wrap both arms around his neck. Drawing him close, she pressed her lips to his mouth and a few more happy tears escaped the corners of her eyes.

_It feels so damned good to be alive again._


End file.
